Whene'er approached by gentlemen of rank,
And, when reproved, presented arms to me!
"There is no potentate in France or Flanders
You will not heap with insult if you can.
For lo! a car. It is the Corps Commander's;
The sentries take no notice of the man,
Or fix him with a not unkindly stare,
And slap their butts in an engaging way,
Or else, too late, in penitent despair
Cry, 'Guard, turn out!' and there is no guard there,